Against Me
Hey, so this is my first SPN fic, and I'm nervous! So, it's an AU and the Bros are OOC, I'm sure. (Sorry) I'm a novice and am looking for a Beta! PM me if you're interested. I threw in my OC too. Really, this is a quick draft to see if there is interest, and if there is, I'll go back over it and make it make sense! Please review! Thanks!
Any other day, any one of them and Dean wouldn't have had a problem with this entire situation. He understands why Sam feels obligated, really he does, but come on! They've hurt plenty of people, some on purpose, others couldn't avoided; but this is, this is a piece of crap that Dean just wants to burry under all the other crap that he's already buried in his, deep, dark grave reserved for the most vile and decrepit things in his life. Sure, his soda bottle of emotion is full to the brim and yeah, this whole thing just shook the hell out of it, but if Dean goes through with what is expected from him for once, it'll be like pulling the tab on a shaken Coke the size of Oklahoma.
Dean looked at the girl, the one that now had both his and Sam's initials carved into her forearms, the one the angels, or Uriel, to be specific, sent to appease them into submission. He'd called a useful gift, said they should be grateful, encouraged them to use her as see fit. Dean didn't understand how it got to here, how they'd arrived at this moment. He'd tortured Alastair as they'd asked, it was for nothing and probably hurt Dean more than anyone, but he'd done it. So why on Earth was this being thrown in his face? As a 'thank you'? How about leaving them alone? That sounded nice, a reprieve from angels vs. demon world and back to reality, if only for a short while. Dean wiped his face with his good hand and watched as Sam bent to get the young blonde from the back of the Impala. This is how the angels repay them? After giving everything? They bind some teenager's life force to the two of theirs, not to mentions the souls? Mixes her blood with theirs and vice versa? Who does that?
'Angels, obviously'. Dean supplied to his own unspoken question.
Taking a deep breath, Dean fished the keys from his jeans and unlocked the trunk of the Impala retrieving both duffels and striding to the open hotel room. Sam had set the girl on the couch and was carefully cleaning the dried blood from the girl's tanned arms. Dean dropped the respective bags on the coordinating beds and sighed. He looked at his poorly bandaged hand and saw the bleeding had stopped. The eldest Winchester gently unwound the wound and side stepped into the bathroom to wash it. As he soaped the cut, he thought of how he'd acquired it.
They'd just checked in. They were finally back to some sense of normalcy after Dean escaped the hospital, leaving AMA. The hotel room was typical, two beds, a small kitchenette, a table for two and a couch tucked into the corner. The only thing that wasn't included in a conventional room, was the large, black angel, currently standing in the middle of it, with a teen tied across the table; her lifeless legs spilling from her torso, which was tied to the table top, the soft flesh of her arms laid bare. She was unconscious, her clothes tattered, but intact; her black combat boots untied and hair stained with blood.
"What's this?" Dean asked, anger rising in his voice. Uriel unsheathed a knife from his jacket pocket and inspected it, staring into the steel as if it held to answers to all of life's questions.
"A helping hand." Uriel looked from his knife to Dean and took a step toward him. "You see, you scratched our back, now we are returning the favor."
"What? You gunna sacrifice her to us or something?" Sam questioned, concerned.
Uriel laughed, "Or something," He answered. The angel fluttered to Dean and grabbed the hunter's hand and had sliced into it, before the owner of said hand realized it was being violated. Uriel fluttered both himself and Dean to table and the girl. "I'm going to mix your blood, create one being out of three, bind your souls if you will." The angel explained and he forced Dean's hand against the teen's head wound and squeezing, making Dean's blood flow freely and rubbing it against the girl's head. Dean hissed in pain and looked from his palm to protest only to find himself back where he started and Uriel rubbing Sam's hand against the same wound, the angels muttering something in a language Dean didn't understand. Dean blinked and Sam was back at his side, with Uriel once again examining the knife in front of them.
"What the fuck?" Sam exclaims. "What do you mean, 'bind our souls'?"
Uriel closes in on Sam and hands the knife to him, handle first."She will be of great use to you, but not if she isn't controlled. The only way to do that is to bind her."
"Well, you can your present back, we ain't slave owners and there's only room for two in the Impala." Dean retorted.
Uriel clicked his tongue, "You see, if you leave the bond unfinished, like it is now, you all die. You finish the bond and you have unimaginable power literally within arm's reach."
Dean growled at him. "What about her? Doesn't she get a say?"
Uriel turned to Dean, "No."
"Dean. What choice do we have? We can't let her die. We can't save everyone, but we can save her." Sam said, hating himself and the situation.
Dean looked at the girl once more and gave in. "Fine. How do we finish it?"
Uriel smirked and shoved the knife into Sam's steady hand. "You must mark her as yours on her arm, one on each side."
Sam looked to Dean, and the eldest brother saw the turmoil in his little brother."It's okay, Sammy. Just like the Impala, just do a quick initial and be done."
Sam gulped, nodded and gently cut an inch by inch SW on the center of her left wrist, just below the axis point and looked away handing the knife to his brother on the other side of the table, who followed suit and carved a DW into the opposite arm. Dean turned to Uriel, to ask if it was done now, only to hear the flutter of angel wings and find the man and knife gone. Sam then drew his attention back to his mark, where what were once fresh cuts had already healed into angry red scars, Sam's as well. Upon further inspection, all the teen's wounds were healed, leaving scars in their wake.
"Let's go, Sammy. I don't feel comfortable in this hotel anymore." Dean said, turning from the girl to grab both bags. "Grab the kid, would ya?"
They had driven to another state without a peep from their passenger, but pulled off in Virginia for food and sleep.
Dean was rinsing the soap from his hands when he heard his brother's call for help.